


What's That to Say When the Rain Won't Go Away?

by Awesomepie3221



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Flooding, Frottage, M/M, Rained in, blowjob, confessions of a crush, cottage, handjob, just two bros having fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 14:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20725619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awesomepie3221/pseuds/Awesomepie3221
Summary: Jeremy and Ryan are stuck in a cottage alone and the situation would be fine if Jeremy didn't have the biggest crush on Ryan.





	What's That to Say When the Rain Won't Go Away?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lumi (Lumieerie)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumieerie/gifts).

> Title from About Mr. Brown by O.A.R.
> 
> Update as of 10/19/20: I won't be removing this fic. Ryan did some fucked up things and I will happily never support the man again, but I worked hard on this fic so it stays up.

Jeremy knows exactly how he ended up in this situation, but that doesn't mean he's happy, or excited to be in it. Mostly because it's Ryan. And it's not that he doesn't like Ryan, it's almost the exact opposite. 

Fuck the rain, he decides. Fuck power outages and candles. Fuck cottages. Fuck lakes. Fuck how good Ryan looks.

It's humid, too, to top it all off, and with the power outage, there's no AC, and the humidity and heat is quickly overwhelming the cottage. Jeremy was the first to take off his shirt after it started clinging awfully to his skin. He swears he saw Ryan staring at his chest. He swears he just imagined it. He swears he wants it to be true. He swears he doesn't. 

Ryan still has his shirt on. He doesn't seem to take it off often, but neither does Jeremy, really. He prefers a tank top, so why would he need to take off his shirt? With the exemption of this particular moment, of course. 

The real issue isn't that Ryan hasn't taken off his shirt, or the way it clings to him, or even the incessant heat, it's the fact that it's just him and Ryan in this lakeside cottage. It wasn't supposed to be. The entirety of the Achievement Haunter crew was supposed to join them, but because of the rain, they were stuck in Austin.

The plan was, according to Trevor, that they were all to spend five days at this cottage on Canyon Lake, which was about an hour and a half from Austin. On the fifth day, they would go to the Faust hotel and spend a night there. The Faust Hotel was claimed to be haunted, but definitely calmer than their usual places. An episode for the middle of the season, for sure.

The cottage was what was mostly focused on. The five days would be for them to film plenty of shenanigans, and also take a small company vacation. It was a triple whammy. Until it started raining and suddenly it wasn't.

And the only reason Jeremy and Ryan were the only ones here was because they were the first to leave, hours before everyone, and together, because taking one car is easier than two. Hanging out alone with Ryan for a few hours in the cool AC temperature and the light is easy, but  _ this _ isn't because Ryan looks so  _ good  _ right now, and Jeremy feels so  _ absolutely _ miserable.

They've found candles hidden in drawers around the cottage and they've lit them everywhere in the family room so they can at least see, and while looking for candles, they stumbled upon a closet in one of the rooms filled to the brim with board games. Monopoly included, of course, so that's what they're doing right now. Ryan is beating him, but only slightly and only because he owns six properties and Jeremy only owns two. 

Jeremy rolls the dice and gets a seven. Seven spaces is Marvin Gardens. He buys it. Ryans rolls a four, and he looks good doing it. He rolled doubles, so he goes again, then he lands on Marvin Gardens. He pays Jeremy the money, and their hands brush. Ryan's hand is sweaty, but soft, and Jeremy feels his stomach do a flip. 

Which is ridiculous, because he has totally touched Ryan's hand before without an unfavorable reaction. 

"Maybe your luck is turning," Ryan says, and it tears Jeremy's eyesight from his hand. 

"There's still plenty of properties left," Jeremy agrees. "Look, I'll land on a new one right now." He doesn't. He pays Ryan fifty dollars because Ryan owns two of the railroads, including the one he just landed on. "This game doesn't care for me, does it?" 

Ryan chuckles. "No. But you can't lie yourself out of this one." 

"That's the issue with Monopoly!" 

"And that's why I see no issue. It's all fair." 

"What about the fact that it's repetitive?" 

"I can confess it's not my favorite. Would you rather play Battleship? Nevermind, you can cheat too easily at that one," Ryan offers and decides all at once. Jeremy can't say that Ryan is wrong, but 

"When have I been known to cheat at games?"

"Never, I suppose, but that doesn't mean I trust you." 

"If anything, you're more likely to cheat." 

"How?" 

"Ryan, you're the Mad King." 

"Touché." 

Jeremy smiles, and almost forgets this slightly disaster of a situation he has found himself in. They go around the board a few more times and it's embarrassing how much Ryan is suddenly beating the hell out of him. He hasn't made any mistakes; it's all luck playing in Ryan's favor. That's all this game is, really, especially between only two people.

"Did you know seven is the most commonly rolled number?" Jeremy says before he rolls a twelve. "Damn, I was really hoping for that seven."

"The Curse of the Jack," Ryan says. 

"I don't think he rolled one seven."

Ryan shrugs. "I know I just did," he laughs. 

"Wow, you actually landed on one of my properties. Give me my twenty-six dollars." Ryan forks it over, and Jeremy starts to fan himself with it. 

"Do you think we'll ever get the power back on?" Jeremy asks, his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a dog. 

"I can't remember if the cottage ever had it. I'm starting to think I'm gonna have to disrobe." 

Jeremy's stomach lurches and he feels like it's gotten ten times hotter. Maybe the flames of the candles are suddenly letting off more heat. That makes sense, he'll go with that. 

"These jeans are a pain in the ass. Not to mention that my  _ literal _ ass is sweating." Ryan shifts around and grabs at his crotch and stretches out the denim spanning across it. Which, by the way, Jeremy can only see because they were forced to play on the floor after the candles wouldn't fit on the dining table along with the game, but without the candles they couldn't see the board, since the sun had gone down hours ago.

Jeremy can't help but stare at Ryan's crotch even after his hand moves, and the only reason Ryan doesn't notice is because right at that moment there's some lightning and thunder that seems to only be a few yards away from the cottage they're so bright and loud. 

Jeremy jumps and knocks over a candle, which Ryan notices first and launches himself at Jeremy to pick it up before it can start a fire. Jeremy doesn't know what's going on until he's been knocked completely to the floor and Ryan's chest is pressing against his, and he can feel Ryan's breath on his neck. It gives him goosebumps. 

Ryan apologizes against his neck and the goosebumps get worse. "The candle got knocked over," Ryan explains. 

"And the reason why you're still on my chest?" 

Ryan scrambles to get off, using Jeremy's biceps as support, and also scratching him in the process. Jeremy doesn't mind. What he does mind, though, is the fact that Ryan is blushing and averting his eyes from everything Jeremy related, game board included. 

"You're, um…" Ryan starts but quickly trails off. 

"My what?" 

Ryan gets even more red. Or maybe Jeremy's eyes are playing a trick on him. It'd be so much easier to tell if the power wasn't fucking out. 

"Nevermind. Sorry for trampling you like that." 

Jeremy shrugs and waves his hand. "I'd rather be shoved down than us burn this cottage down. What would the others say?" 

"We'd never be trusted alone again," Ryan replies, and he's finally looking at Jeremy again, a laugh on his lips. "We'd have to pay for the thing, too. This can't be worth more than twenty thousand," Ryan continues. 

"I give it five." 

"Thousand?" 

"Hundred." 

"I'm inclined to believe you're wrong." 

"Eh, you could be wrong too. Guess we'll have to burn it down to see." Jeremy places a finger on another candle near him, and he starts to tip it over, but Ryan grabs his wrist before anything more mischievous happens, this time going around the board to reach Jeremy rather than on top of it.

Maybe Jeremy did it just to get Ryan to grab him again, just because he wanted to feel his rough and sweaty palm. Maybe the cottage seemed like good leverage. Who knows?

Ryan doesn't immediately let up, instead squeezing Jeremy's wrist. Jeremy meets his eyes, and almost subconsciously licks his lips.  _ Almost.  _

"Well," Ryan starts, then clears his throat. He lets go, slowly, letting his fingers lay flat against Jeremy just for a second. "Do you want to keep playing?" 

Jeremy breaks eye contact to look at the game he's miserably losing at. He forgot they were playing it. "I don't think I can win." He has plenty of money left, but Ryan owns half the board.

"No. I've already beat you." 

Jeremy sneers at him, and Ryan smiles enough to show just a bit of his teeth. 

"I could catch up, I just don't want to. Do you think there's any alcohol in this place?" 

"I didn't see any." Ryan is already stacking the monopoly money together and placing it all back in the box. 

"Well, you've got putting this away handled. I'm going to go looking." Jeremy stands up and stretches out his back before making his way to the kitchen.

The cabinets in the kitchen are dusty, and he's pretty sure the light from his phone illuminates a couple of spiderwebs. When was the last time this fucking cottage got rented out? What chance was there that some alcohol got left behind? He'd be satisfied with some measly Bud Light at this point.

Another crack of lightning strikes. The rain is still smacking into the roof, giving Jeremy constant anxiety that part of it will collapse. He slams a cabinet shut, and right at that moment he gets a text from Trevor. 

**How are you and Ryan? **

_ We played monopoly _ , Jeremy sends back. His phone is on fifty percent. It's going to die before power comes back. He's surprised he even has service. 

**Rain isnt going to let up until late tonight. You guys are stuck alone until tomorrow afternoon :'( **

He hears Ryan walk upstairs to put Monopoly back in the closet.

_ We'll find somethng to do _

**Go frolic in the rain**

_ Haha. Very funny  _

Trevor sends him a thumbs up emoji. 

Jeremy investigates a few more cabinets before he gives up. There's nothing in this cottage except the few snacks and soda they brought (and had uselessly put in the fridge before the power went out). He grabs a regular Coke and a Diet Coke on his way back into the living room. Ryan is sat on the couch, which is most likely just as dusty as everything else in the cottage. Jeremy joins him, probably sitting closer than he should be, but Ryan makes no comment or complaint. Jeremy hands him the Diet Coke. 

"Thanks." 

"No problem. Trevor says we're stuck here alone until, like, tomorrow afternoon." 

Ryan cracks open his can and takes a long swig. Jeremy can hear him audibly gulp. "That's unfortunate," he says, and, yet, he doesn't sound disappointed. 

"He also says we should frolic in the rain." 

Ryan nods, drinks more of his Diet Coke. Jeremy's can is much louder to open, and he can hear the caffeine fizzing clear as day. 

"Yeah, why not?" 

Jeremy is taken aback. "What?" 

"Let's go play in the rain." 

"You  _ want _ to?"

"What else is there?" 

"We could go to bed." 

"Eh, I'm not tired. Why? Do you not want to?" 

"No, you just surprised me." 

"I can do that." 

"I thought I had you down pat. Guess I was wrong." 

"Oh, really?" Jeremy is hit with a suggestive look and it makes him slightly uncomfortable, slightly excited. "What should I do then?" 

"Well, I don't know. I thought you'd turn it down because the idea was obviously not yours." 

"Most of what I do happens to not be my idea." 

He's right, and Jeremy tries to think of a better rebuttal, but the rain overhead is louder in this section of the cottage, and it serves as a great way to distract him, because he already can't figure out why he's arguing with the idea in the first place.

"What if we get lost in the dark?" It's the best he can come up with.

"We don't have to go frolicing" --Jeremy has to stop himself from laughing hearing Ryan say that-- "if you don't want to." 

Jeremy thinks on it for a beat, then imagines seeing Ryan in soaking wet clothes that cling to his body, rain pulling his hair down into his eyes, and him laughing while water drips down his chin. The thought is gorgeous. "No, no, no, let's do it," he rushes out, probably too obviously. It's this forsaken cottage, he's forgotten how to forget about his awful crush on Ryan.

Ryan smiles at him, all teeth. The apples of his cheeks are so full and round, and candle light dances around the curves of them both, and Jeremy licks his lips, then gets self conscious when he realizes what he just did. He clears his throat. Ryan places his Diet Coke on the coffee table and gets up. He holds out his hand for Jeremy to grab, and Jeremy awkwardly gives Ryan his Coke can that he had forgotten he was holding until that exact moment. 

"Not what I expected, but alright," Ryan playfully says. "Try again?" he suggests after putting the second can next to his own.

"Right." Jeremy gets it right this time and he silently congratulates himself on not being an awkward weirdo again. 

Despite his shorter legs, Jeremy beats Ryan to the front door and opens it for both of them, letting Ryan out first. The porch they step onto, despite being covered, is absolutely soaked, the wood scary to walk on because the water has softened it up way too much. It needs to be replaced, even Jeremy with his limited wood experience can tell. 

Ryan grabs his hand and Jeremy jumps, but Ryan's eyes are soft and excited, that much Jeremy can tell despite having almost no light. "Come on," Ryan yells over the rain, and then he pulls Jeremy so suddenly that he almost slips on the soggy wood. 

The moment they're off the porch, the rain has soaked them to the bone, and Ryan lets go to spin around, his arms outstretched, and, yes, giggle while doing it. Jeremy knows he's staring, and he knows he's softly smiling, and he knows he can't help it,  _ especially _ once Ryan slips on mud and falls down so pathetically that it's most likely the funniest thing Jeremy has ever seen.

He tries to get up, slipping again and just barely catching himself with his right hand. The next time he tries, he manages to get on his knees. He wipes his mouth of mud, smearing it all over his cheek in the process. "That so funny?" 

Jeremy can't breathe he's laughing so hard, yet he manages to nod. He's taken completely by surprise when a hand on his ankle pulls him roughly into the mud, because the last time he checked he thought he was still a yard or so from Ryan. "Fuck!" he yells, and tries to push himself up to sit, but he slips and he goes chest first back into the mud, much like Ryan did.

Ryan is laughing now, flipped over onto his back, and kicking in the air, hands on his stomach. 

"You just made a powerful enemy," Jeremy says. 

Ryan stops laughing for only a second to meet Jeremy's eyes, or what he can see through the rain, before he cracks up again. "I feel s-so threat-threatened," says Ryan. 

Jeremy grins and then he spins quickly on top of Ryan, his legs on either side of him, and pins his arms above his head before Ryan knows what happened. 

"You should," Jeremy growls. He can't even see Ryan, the rain is dripping over his eyelashes so badly. Ryan is just a smudge of a different color of black to the mud, to the night sky, to the rain itself.

He still looks gorgeous.

And he looks at Jeremy with big eyes, pupils blown wide so the little blue that shines through the rain and blurr is almost completely gone. 

Jeremy wants to better see how Ryan looks, and so he leans down. Ryan's hair is caked in mud, and stuck to his forehead, and his cheeks are flushed a beautiful pink, and he's biting his lip. 

Wait, he's biting his lip. Why is he biting his lip? How long has he been biting his lip? Did his eyes just flick to Jeremy's lips? Did he just imagine that? 

Of course he did. So he gets off of Ryan and back onto his feet, slipping only a little, and he runs to the treeline before Ryan can truly notice he's gone. He hears Ryan call after him, but he is too busy trying to get air into his lungs to respond to him.

His crush on Ryan is easy to ignore in the office--in real life, because this cottage is obviously not real life. It can't be. Everything here seems too easy, and so complicated, and too good to be true, but not true enough. It's as if everything he's always wanted is right in his reach, right  _ fucking _ there, but there's also the mud and the rain and real life obligations he can't ignore. 

He spits out some mud from his lips and wipes the rain from his eyes, but it's quickly replaced as bad as before. He leans against a tree, one muddy hand resting against it. This part of the ground isn't muddy, but it is squishy, like he's on wet underbrush. He's sure he is. His breathing is starting to even out again.

He thinks he can hear Ryan's voice still calling for him over the rain, but it's distant, far from him, perhaps back at the cottage. He didn't see where he went.

He could leave, find his way to a place that rents cars, then drive back to Austin. Say he got sick and decided to find his way back on his own so he didn't get Ryan sick. Maybe skip a week of work to seal the deal. 

Instead of doing that, he screams, probably too loud, maybe not loud enough, he can't tell over the blasting sound in his ears and the rain.

"Jeremy!" Ryan calls out, now much closer. "Where the hell did you go?!" 

Jeremy's breath hitches, almost out of breath for no reason again, but he manages to stop the crippling anxiety before it returns. 

"Over here!" Jeremy responds.

He jumps when he feels Ryan put his arm around his back almost immediately.

"What the fuck, Jeremy?" Ryan asks, his voice rough, but scared.

Jeremy wants to tell Ryan something,  _ anything _ , everything. Tell him why he's been jittery, why he's breathing hard, why he just ran away for seemingly no reason. Why he can't help but stare at Ryan every damn chance he gets, in office or out of office. 

Instead he grabs Ryan and leads them back into the cottage because suddenly he feels light headed and he doesn’t want to pass out in this rain.

"Neither of us thought to grab towels, huh?" Jeremy says the moment they step through the door. It clangs behind them. There is a mat they stand on, but it’s cheap and old. Ryan shakes his head. 

Jeremy grunts and rubs the water from his eyes, then toes off his shoes and goes to his suitcase upstairs to find the towels they desperately need. Jeremy is happy to remember he packed two bath towels for reasons he can't quite remember. Probably one for the shower, and one for the lake. Whatever the reason, he's glad to not have to go through Ryan's bag.

When Jeremy comes back down, Ryan is standing by the couch with his phone in his hand, shoes off his feet, and Jeremy is happy to remind himself that the floor is tile and therefore easy to clean because Ryan didn't think to take off his shoes until he got to the couch.

"Here." Jeremy throws Ryan a fluffy baby blue towel and Ryan catches it one-handed right as it flies by his shoulder. "Nice," Jeremy compliments. 

"We were out there for almost an hour. It's midnight." 

"It didn't feel like it. And I'm not that tired. Kinda hungry." 

Jeremy dries his head, scrapes out some mud behind his ears with a corner of the towel. Most of the mud was washed off with the rain. 

"You know, you disappeared for thirty minutes. Scared the shit out of me. Did something happen?" 

Jeremy stops suddenly, and his feet feel like lead, and his heart starts to hammer, and so does his head. Thirty minutes? That's impossible. There is no way he was gone for thirty minutes. It felt like five, max. 

"I thought maybe a bear got you," Ryan tries to joke with a chuckle, but the chuckle is breathy and forced and so obviously fake. He sounds worried. He  _ should  _ sound worried, Jeremy would if Ryan had left for thirty minutes for no reason.

"It… It felt like only a couple," Jeremy stammers out. "I was at the treeline the whole time. I never moved."

"I couldn't see you. I could barely hear you once you  _ did _ respond to me." 

"Did you call for me the whole time?"

"Yes."

Jeremy gapes at him. "I only heard you once." 

"Could have been the rain."

"Yeah, the rain…" Jeremy knows that isn't true. Did Ryan hear him scream? He supposes not, because he doesn’t mention it.

"Here." Jeremy barely catches the potato chip bag that Ryan throws at him, and it crunches loudly in his ear, makes him drop his towel. He was as dry as he was going to get from the towel, anyway.

"What's this for?" 

"You said you were hungry." 

"Oh, yeah." 

Ryan has spread his towel on a cushion of the couch so he can sit down, his clothes still soaked, but since Ryan doesn't seem to care, Jeremy doesn't either. He's not paying to rent the cottage and the couch looks as cheap as all the rest of the furniture. When he sits, he grimaces at the feel of his wet clothes.

"So, why did you disappear?" 

"I don't… I don't know." A lie. A bad one at that. He stuffs some potato chips in his mouth. Some crumbs fall on his chest, which is still without a shirt. He never thought of putting one on before going outside.

Ryan grabs Jeremy's hand and squeezes it reassuringly, then drops it again. His hand was soft. "I know this situation kinda sucks. I'm still hot. I don't know how." 

"I feel fine." He eats more potato chips. It's a great excuse to not talk, because he knows he's going to say something stupid.

Ryan reaches past him to take a handful. Jeremy hates how Ryan supports himself with his chest because he hates feeling Ryan's hand on him. It's too rough, too nice. He hates it. He wants to kiss that hand, in between all the fingers up to the palm, then keep going until he hits his wrist. But then his hand is gone, and he has just as many potato chips in his mouth that Jeremy just swallowed. Jeremy moves the bag so it’s now in between them.

Watching him eat is torture because he can't help but put Ryan swallowing in a sexual context, despite knowing there is nothing inherently sexual about Ryan eating.  _ Everyone _ eats.  _ Babies _ eat, and people who sexualize babies are fucking creeps. So Jeremy must be a creep, right? 

Yeah, that makes no sense. But he's trying to convince himself he's wrong for having a crush on Ryan, because it  _ should _ be wrong. 

It makes it all worse that he used to idolize the man, as well. He used to idolize all of the Achievement Hunters. So why does he only want to fuck one? Kiss one? The one he's stuck with, no less?

"I think we-I need to go to bed," Jeremy blurts out, a half chewed glob of potato chip still in his mouth. He quickly swallows it, hurting his throat in the process, and pushes the bag to Ryan, almost violently. 

"Are you okay?" Ryan asks, so obviously worried for him, and it makes Jeremy bite his lip. 

"Of course," he lies, not as easily as he normally can. "I just want to get dry and climb in a nice bed. Preferably without a blanket, because I'm already sweating again. Good night, Ryan, I'll see you in the morning." Jeremy is already halfway up the steps by the time he stops talking. 

Sleep is not easy for him to fall into. He's angry at himself for disappearing and acting so awkwardly around Ryan. And he can't use his phone to take his mind off of it because he doesn't want to risk it dying in case there's an emergency. So he's forced to stew in and about his faults until he finally falls asleep at only God knows what time.

The power must have been fixed sometime last night, because Jeremy wakes up feeling cold without a blanket, and he can hear the shower running. Either that, or Ryan has brought a candle into the bathroom with him and it changed seasons overnight. He figures it's the former explanation.

He can still hear rain outside, so he can't explain how the power is fixed, but he's not going to complain. He's going to thank whatever god there is above and plug in his phone and bask in the air conditioning. 

And he's going to ignore all his problems by staring at his phone all day instead of Ryan. Once it’s charged.

And he's not going to think about Ryan in the shower. Naked. 

By the time he checks his phone, it's noon, which explains why Ryan is already up and in the shower, and why he has a message from Trevor at 9:41: 

**Rain is still causing flooding. We can't make it until it stops**

_ As long as you dont tell me to frolic again _

**Can do ** with a thumbs up emoji.

The shower turns off. Jeremy makes it downstairs right as Ryan opens the bathroom door, a cloud of humidity tumbling out. 

"There's no vent," Ryan explains after he notices Jeremy staring at him breathing deeply. 

In actuality, Jeremy is staring at the water trailing down his shirtless torso. All Ryan has on is a towel wrapped around his waist. Jeremy can see his naval, and, wow, does it look perfect. So does everything else, actually. He's not going to lie to himself, no matter how badly he should. 

"I'll be done shortly. I have to brush my teeth, stuff like that, then you can have the bathroom." He goes back in. 

Jeremy takes a deep breath. Fuck, how is he going to do another day like this? How the fuck did they end up like this? No one thought to check the weather? Absolutely  _ no one _ ? Or was this some freak storm they were now suffering from? Well, Jeremy is suffering. He doesn't know about Ryan, but even he has to feel stuck.

Ryan leaves the bathroom and tells Jeremy he can have it. Yeah, Jeremy really needs to shower. He thinks there's still mud behind his ears. Despite the rain that took most of it off, and the towel that is muddy and on the couch still, he probably got mud on the bed sheets. He feels bad about that. He'll make Trevor wash it as punishment for this whole idea. Maybe he'll kick Trevor out of the cottage, throw the sheets and some soap at him and not let him in until he cleans it. He can already imagine Trevor asking him how, and him telling Trevor to use the lake. What a great fantasy. 

His shower is quick and he mostly uses it to scrub all the mud he finds everywhere. He had thought he had gotten most of it off, but when he looked down at the draining water, there was more mud. He has no idea how it happened. He guesses it was the same for Ryan. 

When he gets out of the shower, Ryan has the shitty pink tube TV on, tuned to the local news channel because all it has is the bunny ears. Even with them, it barely has a clear image. The audio is garbage, as well, constantly cutting out.

Ryan has taken off the towels and put them in a pile next to it, so Jeremy sits on the couch next to Ryan, almost sitting on his thigh on the way down. He just barely misses it. 

"They're saying the rain won't stop for quite a while. It's not a hurricane, though, wind's not strong enough. It's just… flooding. Popped out of nowhere." 

"Well, if the weather could warn us next time that'd be nice. We don't even have  _ food _ ." 

"Oh yeah, you want some cheez-its?" Ryan grabs a box from the nightstand and shoves it at Jeremy, because his attention is focused on the TV. 

"How much snack food did you bring?" 

Ryan shrugs and talks with his mouth full of something that is obviously not cheez-it. "Dunno. Enough for the whole crew, I guess. Hope you weren't expecting a home cooked meal, though, it's all just junk." Ryan swallows and grins at Jeremy. Jeremy shakes his head, because it's all he can do to suppress wanting to kiss Ryan on the cheek and call him adorable. 

"Is this all that's on the TV?"

"Best that I could pick up. Trees and rain really dampen the image." 

"What's your data look like?" 

"Nonexistent like my service. Yours?"

"3G, so practically useless, and three bars, so not so useless. Trevor told me that they can't show up until the rain stops." 

"Figured. Flooding needs to go down first too." 

_ "The rain stopped from about two AM to three-thirty AM last night, but whatever water drained has since been replaced. We can see no end for at least the next few hours, until approximately six PM,"  _ the TV says. Jeremy groans, low in his throat, and eats a handful of cheez-its. 

"I'm getting myself a steak once this is all over," he says.

"I'll join you." 

“It’s a--” A month ago he would have had no problem calling it a date. But it isn’t a month ago, and Jeremy wants nothing more than for it to be a date. Jeremy doesn’t finish, but Ryan doesn’t seem to mind, or notice. Maybe he never heard Jeremy say anything in the first place. The rain is still loud on the roof. He thinks the roof is tin; he’s never heard rain on a tin roof, though, so he doesn’t claim to know what it sounds like.

“Jeremy,” Ryan says, and he realizes he stopped listening to him a while ago. 

“Yes?” Jeremy responds, trying to cover his lack of attention. 

“I asked where you wanted to get the steak.”

“Oh. I guess I’ll drive around and see.” 

“The Hoffbrau.” 

“I trust you to give me a good steak. Probably more than anyone else in the office.”

“ _ Only _ probably? This is what I live for, Jeremy.” 

“Then why ask me instead of telling me?”

“It was your idea.” Ryan shrugs. He starts to twist up a bag, and Jeremy sees he was eating cool ranch doritos. “I want a donut too. I haven’t had a donut in, like, a month,” Ryan continues.

“When Michael brought them in?”

“I limited myself to three.” 

"I'm proud." 

Ryan smiles at him. "I live my life to make you proud, Jeremy." His heart thumps in his chest and his tongue goes dry.

"Do we have water? I need water." 

"I don't think we have cups." 

"We have coke." Jeremy gets up, and suddenly the TV is too loud, too chaotic. He wants Ryan to turn it off, and luckily it gets quieter as he makes his way through the hall to the kitchen. Jeremy is breathing heavily when he gets to the kitchen, almost doubled over, similar to what happened to him last night. He’s a mess. An absolute fucking mess. Something needs to happen. He doesn’t think that once they get back to the office that it’ll be fixed, his feelings will go back to normal. They’ve gone up ten times since he entered this cottage, and there’s no way they’ll go down. 

So what does he do?   
  
He grabs the cokes he promised to himself and he goes back to Ryan.

He gives one to Ryan, and then sits on the couch again, this time on the opposite side to him. Ryan looks at him.

“Why are you so far away?” Jeremy furrows his brows at him.

“You want me to sit next to you?” Jeremy’s heart thumps, strongly, maybe in his throat. 

“Is anyone else gonna sit on the couch?” 

Jeremy is too scared to answer because he knows his voice will catch. Ryan is looking at him, though, expecting an answer, wide blue eyes. Maybe they would have no affect on him if he had blue eyes himself, but he was stuck with dumb brown eyes. This whole situation could be blamed on Ryan’s blue eyes, he decides. Even the rain. Rain is always drawn as a blue color, so it makes sense. 

Nothing makes sense. 

Whatever.

He scoots closer, close enough that his thigh is touching Ryan's again.

Ryan's hand sits on his own thigh, and then his finger brushes against Jeremy's. Purposely or not, he can't tell. All too sudden, Ryan's hand is on the inside of his own thigh and he squeezes it so hard that Jeremy can see his knuckles turning white, and then Ryan is biting his lip just as hard. He takes a deep breath, eyes looking down and at nothing in particular.

“Just kiss me, Jeremy. Please," Ryan almost whines out.

Jeremy drops his can. He's lucky he hadn't opened it yet.

“What?”

The TV goes up ten notches. Jeremy is staring.

"Can you-can you turn it down?" Jeremy gestures vaguely towards the shelf that the TV is on. Ryan understands, and then the TV makes no more noises. It's still on, just muted.

"You want me to kiss you?" Jeremy mumbles. He's trying to meet Ryan's eyes so he can truly gauge what Ryan is thinking, but he's staring at his own can, moving his thumb back and forth. He's nervous, scared.

There's silence for a long time until, "Yes." He goes to say something more, but clenches his jaw tight.

Jeremy doesn't know what to do. To kiss Ryan is all he's ever wanted, ever since he first heard his voice in that Witcher 3 Achievement Guide, but he has spent so long pining for the chance, he doesn't know what to do with it.

The chance that is  _ literally _ right in front of him. The lips are right there. Jeremy can't help but stare at them. They're the perfect shade of pink to compliment his skin tone, and they're shiny, becoming pale as they curve into his mouth. But they're also pursed tight, closed with great force that they're slightly hidden. 

Jeremy makes a split decision, one he never thought himself capable of doing, and he takes Ryan's hand in his and squeezes it, making Ryan jump and look at him with wide eyes.

They're just so fucking blue.

He kisses him.  _ Is _ kissing him.  _ Fucking kissing Ryan. _ He's never wanted to kiss anyone more than he did Ryan, and he's kissing him. On the lips! He feels like he's doing an awful job, because he probably is, but he's way too excited to care much. Ryan is doing amazing, though, and it heats up his stomach before he can even fully realize what's going on. It feels ethereal, especially with the rain pouring onto the roof. It's started thundering too, only recently, like the past thirty minutes, but it fills the air with little shocks and makes their hair stand on end.

Jeremy is never going to let go, he thinks. He feels like he deserves this, for going from a fan, to a coworker, to a friend, to whatever  _ this _ is. He's worked hard. 

He grabs onto the shirt on Ryan's back and pulls it towards him, making their chests connect, because that means Ryan has less of a chance to pull away himself. He bites onto Ryan's bottom lip, and pulls away with it to take a deep breath of air. Ryan is panting as well, their foreheads shoved together.

"Wow. You're amazing," Ryan mumbles. 

"You're too nice." 

"It's easy to be when I've been wanting this forever." 

Jeremy pulls away slightly, eyes wide. He needs to stare into Ryan's eyes, make sure he just heard what he thinks he heard. 

"What?" he asks, disbelief everywhere it can possibly be.

"I was waiting, Jeremy. But I just- you gave me that can without even asking and I realized that if I keep waiting… What if there was nothing more to wait for?"

Jeremy wants to ask why Ryan didn't just kiss him without asking, but he doesn't dare risk ruining the moment, or even altering how perfect it is in any way, so he goes back to kissing Ryan and he sneaks his hand underneath Ryan's shirt at the same time he gets his tongue inside his mouth. 

"Oh, Jeremy," Ryan tries to moan, but obviously failing, just making Jeremy's tongue vibrate. Jeremy tries to laugh, failing just as badly. Maybe they need to break off, just to figure out what's going on, but neither do, so it doesn't happen. The kiss deepens further, Jeremy getting his other hand under Ryan's shirt and squeezing his hips. They're soft, slightly plush, and Jeremy loves how he can feel the little baby hairs on them. He spreads his thumbs out so he can press them into Ryan's v-lines, which he can feel better than see. His lets his fingers slip from his hips, and then he's tucking his thumbs into the top of Ryan's pants.

They break apart at the same time, both panting for air. Ryan is flushed red, the apples of his cheeks a gorgeous rosy color. "Do you want this?" Ryan asks, slow and soft.

"More than anything." 

"I have no lube and no condom." 

"Neither do I. We don't have to go that far. I want to see you. I- I want to touch you. I want to touch you so fucking badly." 

"That is the best thing I have ever heard you say, Jeremy." 

Jeremy smiles and goes back in to kiss Ryan, tight lipped and all. Ryan loosens him up in a second, getting his tongue back into Jeremy's mouth, and he snakes his hands under Jeremy's shirt, pulling it up and breaking their kiss to get it over and off. 

Jeremy has not gotten any of Ryan's clothes off. The whole point of this was to get Ryan's off, so he undoes Ryan's belt and he slides it from Ryan's jeans and throws it across the room, where it slides to a halt near the wall with a clang.

"Help me get these awful jeans off you."

"These are my favorite pair of jeans," Ryan quips.

"Well, I  _ hate _ them." 

Ryan chuckles and lifts his ass off the bed so he can shimmy the jeans from his hips. 

"Okay, now your boxers are still on." 

"Give me a moment, I haven't even finished taking off the jeans." He's right, of course, the jeans are bunched at his knees and he's slowly kicking them off onto the floor between the couch and coffee table. 

Jeremy groans, an obvious joke, and he takes the time to get his own shorts off, but since they're practically elastic, they come off easily. He purposely leaves his underwear on.

When he looks back at Ryan, he's finally naked, staring at Jeremy with expectant, dark eyes. 

And he's gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous. 

He's not particularly hairy, the hair confined to around his nipples and in between his pecs, but there's that trail that starts right under his rib cage and ends at his belly button, not quite making it to be a happy trail. It's no matter, though, because Ryan's cock is at full attention, and it's so big that Jeremy can't fathom how he didn't feel it through his jeans while they made out. The thing would have covered a happy trail if he had one.

The tip of his cock is flushed a deep pink, he's definitely cut, and he has to be at least nine inches tall, maybe five inches around. He's still staring at Jeremy, almost nervous, or embarrassed, at the way he is studying him, unlike how suave and confident of himself he normally is. It's a different look on Ryan, and it makes Jeremy want to hug him and forget the idea of sex, but the heat in his belly and the strain of his underwear tells him otherwise. 

"Is it too much?" Jeremy can't tell if Ryan is talking about his size or if he's talking about the situation in general, but the answer to both is a resounding no. To convey his point, he takes Ryan's lips in a kiss, lacing his hands through the still damp hair on the back of his head in order to get them closer. Ryan falls easily into the kiss as if they had been doing this exact same thing for the last five years. In their dreams and fantasies, they had. 

He can feel Ryan's cock pressing against his stomach, but touching nothing more. When he shifts around to make it press closer, Ryan lets out a gasp that Jeremy catches in the kiss. The kiss is turning sloppy quickly, their movements rushed and less precise, filled with the passion of two people who feel like they have to make up for lost time, as if they have nothing ahead of them. Maybe they don't, if this flooding never fucking stops. 

Jeremy yelps when he feels Ryan's hand grasp the shaft of his cock and Ryan chuckles into the kiss. He can feel the apples of his cheeks tense with his smile. It's one of the best things he has ever felt. 

"Why didn't you take off your underwear too?" Ryan mumbles, letting go of Jeremy's lips to look at his crotch. His hand is buried in Jeremy's underwear, shifting around as he slowly strokes Jeremy despite the limited space. 

Jeremy's breath hitches. "I wanted- I wanted you to do it," he struggles out. "Felt right." Ryan has his thumb on the head of his cock now, rubbing it across the slit and in circles. Jeremy's leg tenses down on the floor.

Suddenly, Ryan's hot breath is on Jeremy's neck and he takes his skin in his mouth as his hand falls down to Jeremy's balls. His fingers play around, making it harder and harder for Jeremy to breathe. His stomach is burning, burning hot like lava. He may not last any longer.

"So you want to give the control to me?" Ryan mouths against Jeremy's neck. Jeremy puts his hands on Ryan's shoulders and gently pushes him away, which makes his hand stop moving. Jeremy is basically panting with his will to keep his orgasm at bay, and because of it, he refuses to look Ryan in the eyes.

"Did I do something wrong?" Ryan asks, and his voice is so quiet, so nervous, that Jeremy feels his heart drop.

"No, no, no, of course not. I was just about to finish," Jeremy admits, "and I don't want to. Not yet." 

Ryan’s hands meet Jeremy’s hips and he pulls him closer, making Jeremy let out a forced breath of air. His lips meet Jeremy’s neck, again, and this time he sucks on the skin there more forcefully, more intensely. He is obviously trying to leave a hickey, a deep one that will be purple and possibly turn yellow, and Jeremy can’t wait to look at it later. Maybe he’ll show it off to everyone once they get here, or maybe he’ll do his best to hide it and let it be his and Ryan’s little secret. 

He peppers kisses down until he gets to his left collarbone. He runs his tongue underneath the bone where the skin is thin and taut. Somehow, despite all the stimulation, Jeremy manages to wrap his legs around Ryan's waist without falling from the couch. He'd be impressed with himself if he weren't otherwise distracted.

"Is this why you ran? Last night?" He's making his way down again, placing kisses until he reaches one of Jeremy's nipples. Briefly, Jeremy wants to know how far down Ryan plans to go. His nipple is suddenly in Ryan's mouth, his tongue placed flat against the bud, and Jeremy makes a strained noise. 

"Yes," he pants out.

"You wanted me? As much as I wanted you?" His breath is so hot, so humid, so thick that Jeremy can feel the heat start boiling again. He wraps his arms around Ryan now, pulling at his neck by accident so he can ground himself. He feels like he's floating, as if the couch disappeared hours ago. Ryan stops. "Answer me, please," he demands.

"Of course I fucking did." He starts to ground his still-clothed cock into Ryan's, which is straining against his own stomach. He has no idea how Ryan is ignoring it.

Ryan pushes through the force of Jeremy's legs around him and manages to separate their cocks. "No need for crude language," he says.

"Ryan,  _ please _ ." 

"You said you didn't want to finish. Not yet. I'm following directions." Jeremy doesn't comment on how Ryan has always been awful at following directions if they weren't his own specific directions, or didn't benefit him in a mischievous way. He thinks if he does Ryan may delay the inevitable further. 

He hadn't noticed that Ryan left his nipples until he's sucking hickies onto his hips and Jeremy has to physically restrain himself from thrusting. His legs have fallen listlessly to the side of Ryan, one dangling off the couch, the other pressed against the back. He must have moved them to let Ryan slide down like he did, but he has no recollection of it.

Ryan seems to be satisfied with the hickeys he's left on Jeremy's hip because he edges back up until he can kiss Jeremy again, one hand spread across the back of his neck. It's burning hot.

"In that mud… I saw you… I wanted nothing more than to kiss you. But then you ran," Ryan takes a deep breath. Their foreheads are pressed together, sweaty hair onto sweaty skin. "And I thought, 'I've fucked up this time.' Because normally I could get away with longing glances," he chuckles. Jeremy closes his eyes. "I could get away with squeezing your hand. Toppling you over. Grabbing your wrist. Touching your head. Making eye contact. Wiggling my eyebrows. And then I tried again, and you ran, and didn't respond to me, and I was scared it was all over. Whatever we had been dancing around. I thought maybe this stupid fucking cottage had ruined it. I didn't sleep last night. I'm very tired." 

When Jeremy can tell Ryan is done talking, abrupt as it was, he is forcefully shoving their lips together in their sloppiest, most disgusting kiss. 

"I didn't think you wanted me. I thought I made it all up," Jeremy blurts out in the middle of their kiss, making Ryan pull back. His lips are swollen. Thunder sounds off in the distance, but the rain is still a steady thrum.

Ryan smiles. A delicate smile, soft and full of ungoverned love and joy. "Yeah," he whispers. 

"Why did you want me to kiss you if you were scared?"

"I took a chance." 

Jeremy smiles with bright brown eyes. "Now, please, shut up and make me cum," Jeremy says. 

"I can do that. Gladly. I'm very good at following directions." Jeremy wants to roll his eyes.

Ryan is pulling Jeremy's underwear off, barely waiting for him to lift his ass so they can slide off smoothly. Once his cock is exposed, Ryan is staring at it, and Jeremy feels as uncomfortable as Ryan looked when Ryan was first exposed. Eventually, though, Ryan whispers,

"Gorgeous." And then he is kissing the tip of his cock, making Jeremy almost scream out. He is struggling to find purchase on the small couch and to keep himself upright, and his struggle starts to make his abdominal muscles burn. It becomes easier for him to just lie down, his neck placed on the crook of the armrest. He can't see Ryan, unfortunately, as Ryan starts to lick from his balls to the tip. He doesn't think he'll last longer than five seconds if he  _ could _ see him.

Ryan deepthroats him with quick precision and  _ wow, he must of had practice _ . He is good, knows exactly when to hollow out his cheeks as he slides up, knows how to leave the smallest amount of cock in his mouth without letting it fall out. 

Jeremy is biting his lip with the struggle to stay relatively quiet, though plenty of sounds still manage to escape him. Ryan, however, is making the sloppiest of noises unabashedly. They're loud, like he's filming for porn and has to exaggerate his every move, which Jeremy normally doesn't like, but right now it is doing absolutely everything for him. He's curling and uncurling his toes in an attempt to stave off his orgasm, but Ryan is sucking him so strongly, has managed to get his entire cock in his mouth, and the best that Jeremy can do to stop his orgasm this time is to go against what he wants and wrap his fingers in Ryan's hair to pull him off. The pop that comes with it is absolutely, thrillingly, obscene, and Jeremy shudders.

"I was about to cum," Jeremy says, almost ashamed, as if he hadn't just been receiving the best blowjob ever. 

"Same," Ryan says, and he sounds a little irritated, but Jeremy's stomach lurches. The thought of Ryan about to orgasm just from sucking his cock alone almost sends him over the edge.

"If you don't want to finish with a blowjob, we can finish like this." Ryan's voice is raspy, absolutely fucked out gorgeous. He crawls up Jeremy's body, bracing one hand on Jeremy's biceps, and the other goes down to their cocks. Ryan's is leaking precum, and Jeremy's is covered in Ryan's spit, so when he puts them together, they're slick and he's able to start jerking them off together without needing lube. 

"Oh,  _ fuck,  _ Ryan," Jeremy shouts. The position they're in and the way Ryan has to hold himself up must be causing his arm to burn, there's no way it's not, and Jeremy can tell with the way Ryan is wobbling to keep his balance, so he bats away Ryan's hand and takes their cocks in his own. Ryan willingly lets it happen, relaxing onto Jeremy's chest. 

His breath is uneven. He's so close, so fucking close, and Ryan is burying his face in the crook of Jeremy's neck and mouthing at the sweaty skin there. Jeremy takes a thumb and rubs the tips of their cocks and that seems to send Ryan over the edge with an absolutely beautiful gasp of his name. When Jeremy looks down and sees how Ryan's cock is twitching with his release, he can't stop himself from his orgasm. They finish together, their sperm mixing on Jeremy's naval, all the way up to his pecs. It cools his burning skin, a milky white on relatively untanned skin. 

"Fuck," Ryan mumbles, collapsing completely onto Jeremy, knocking the breath from him. "Whoops," he says when Jeremy takes a deep breath for air. 

"At least you got our cum all over you too."

"Do you think any got on the couch?" 

"I fucking hope not. If it did, we're taking the couch and leaving it in the rain." Ryan hums his agreement and contently kisses Jeremy's neck.

There's a long moment of silence where the only sound is the rain and the thunder that is consistently getting farther and farther away. 

Jeremy has never felt happier. He doesn't exactly remember what happened that got them in this situation, except the rain and filming for Haunter, but had Ryan grabbed his hand, or had he grabbed Ryan's? Who was the first to kiss who? Maybe Ryan would remember. Maybe he would remember after a short nap. He panics slightly when he feels his eyelids get heavy, and when he feels Ryan relax further and his breathing start to even out.

He smacks Ryan's head, lightly, but still enough to make Ryan wake up. 

"We can't sleep like this." 

Ryan groans. 

"I know, I know, but we just have to wash off, okay?" Ryan nods, his hair tickling Jeremy's jaw, just under his ear.

When they are in the shower and he's running a washcloth over Ryan's skin, he fully realizes what happened. And he starts to laugh, small bubbles that escape his lips until he is almost doubled over with hysteria. Ryan is staring at him, confused, and when Jeremy gets a look at his face he is laughing even harder until he can't help but fall to the shower floor, washcloth still in hand. 

"Are you okay?" Ryan asks, but even he can't help but start to softly laugh while looking at Jeremy. Jeremy is trying to respond, but he can barely breathe, let alone talk. It takes a good five minutes before he is able to calm down enough to simply cough before he can start talking. Ryan himself has been laughing on and off watching Jeremy.  


"I just," Jeremy starts. "I just realized that-" He has to stop again, laughing so hard that he can't breathe  _ again _ . He keeps trying to talk though, having to stop often to catch his breath and let more laughs out. "I was a fan of yours!  _ A huge fan _ ! And now I am--was-- washing  _ my _ cum off of you!"  


Ryan finally understand what is flooring Jeremy and he can't help but laugh just as hard, falling into a pile on Jeremy. 

They're like that for a long time until both are able to calm down enough that neither start laughing again randomly. They're in a pleasant lull afterwards, even as the water starts to turn cold.

"We should probably get out," Ryan says, and looks at Jeremy. His eyes rake down his body, and he bites his lips, his eyebrows turned up. "Maybe figure out what to do about all the hickeys I gave you." 

"How many did you give me?" 

Ryan doesn't say anything, just meets Jeremy's eyes nervously. 

"Well," Jeremy says, smacking his lips with the sound. "Might as well let them see it." 

"The cameras too?" 

"Fuck." He thinks for a beat. "Maybe Lindsay will have concealer or some shit with her. Let's hope she will." 

Ryan laughs again, and it starts Jeremy back up. 

As the cold water runs down their backs and chests, their arms wrapped around each other, they simultaneously realize that there is nothing either of them want to do more than get that steak.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been eleven years since I wrote my first story and I still can't write endings.


End file.
